


a Hot Stove

by wubbabub



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, M/M, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 18:51:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5138735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wubbabub/pseuds/wubbabub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick inadvertently guides himself straight into a terrible fixation that will crumble what he has, as he always does. He’s equal parts aware and unaware, which he also always is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a Hot Stove

Anybody who’s spent more than 15 minutes with Rick Sanchez in anything resembling a personable way could tell he’s self-destructive. Or it would be so, anyone had the gall to point it out, which they don’t anymore. It’s not news; he’s been inhabiting the same brain for years, knows the patterns, in the end. Whatever he’s justifying his actions with in the moment is all he needs. He knows what a subconscious process is, and what subconscious motive looks like. He can read it in others precisely, and loves to call it out, because he knows how others kid themselves and believe it. Self-psycho-analysis is a waste of time and effort when compulsions and impulsion are going to take over to a degree anyway; a person is equal parts thoughtful and knee-jerk regardless of attempt at control. Or, maybe not so thoughtful anymore, thanks to alcohol. Whatever, you know.

Rick’s watched things he liked and wanted to keep slip from his grip from nothing but himself . In hindsight he can track the moment he started chipping away at a nice thing, but he doesn’t like to look back at anything anymore. Better to just get angry about the cruelty of the universe, and only mentally add a footnote that the mind is as much as a part of that cruelty as anything else. To outside observers, Rick is never subject to anything, things are subject to Rick. It makes people trust him, which they should, because he’s going to come out on top and alive always.

It was on some level, intentional. On another completely out of his control and unstoppable. Tell your grandson to lick your balls, sneer at him for being horny all the time. It’s about being vulgar and rude, and being invasive and reminding him there’s nothing he doesn’t know, nothing off-limits. Nothing is private or unseen. You’d be stupid to hide something from Rick. So don’t.

Joking is a great way to warm up to something; let your mind trace it over and over until it finally stops flinching back. Until touching the stove doesn’t seem to burn anymore, even if you can see the blister and smell the stink of cooked skin. Knee-jerk reactions subside with familiarity, a flaw of human design that lets us deconstruct self-preservation moment by moment to uselessness.

\-----------------------------------------

It’s not hard to catch Morty going at it; it wouldn’t be hard to avoid, either, he’s not a quiet or subtle guy. Walking in on him doesn’t discourage him at all even if you bark insults at him for it. He’s going to be horny and desperate tomorrow just the same. Everyone’s caught him, and nobody’s been the straw that makes him change his habits. 

Hovering a hand above the stove to feel the heat, touching it would burn, but the heat from a short distance barely feels like anything. The body doesn’t innately know it’ll get burned. It feels warm and its pores expand openly, drawing it in. It’s not worried for itself on its own. The stove itself is benign and can’t know it’s hurting and recede. 

\-----------------------------------------

He does it in every room of the house, that kid. He’s insatiable. Others have pointed it out, but when Rick does it, Morty looks sheepish. Of everyone in the house, Rick’s the one bringing it up on his end, the only one. For everyone else it doesn’t exist except for in those unfortunate moments they’ve crossed with it. There’s no barriers between him and Rick. 

“G-gee Rick, do ya hafta, have ta joke about my y’know... teenage, urges, and all all the time? It’s... natural,” he assures himself.  
“And what, let you forget shame?” Rick pipes, not even moving his eye from his task, intermingling this subject with everything he does with no special attention. No barriers.  
And what, let you forget I know?

\------------------------------------------

As much as Mory’s libido is on his own mind is exactly as much Rick’s aware of it. That venn diagrahm is a circle. Any little instant—a special double-busty alien walks by, an idle moment in the ship when Morty’s let his mind drift off to Jessica, there’s a subtle shift in scent and in the way he carries himself, that Rick can pick up on effortlessly. The moment its in the air impulse tells him to point it out, and he’s not one to neglect an impulse.

\-----------------------------------------

“Morty, you’ll fantasize us straight into a black hole.”

“N-no! I wasn’t-- I was, uh—I was concentrating on you know... driving a space ship. Rick.” He tries to make it sting, like it’ll make Rick balk.

“So that’s what that glazed-over expression is huh, concentration, oooh, my bad. Looked like,” a belch of interruption, “dumb horny teenager thinking about boobs, I guess those are similar.”

Rick blows air out his nose.

Thank goodness perception isn’t a two-way street. 

\----------

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry to say I have truly no idea if I'll be continuing this or not. Sorry if that's frustrating! If anybody else enjoys it as a springboard, you're free to write derivative fic from its premise. And I mean, that premise is just Rick letting himself become obsessed with Morty's sexuality.


End file.
